Forgiven, Not Forgotten
by FineChyna
Summary: After finally regaining her memories of Fabletown, Madison is on the run. However, her brush with magic didn't leave her unscathed. Now racing against the clock, Bigby and Snow White must find her before it's too late. If they can manage that, on top of quelling the angry mob of Fables who've just been told that a Mundy's lived among them for five years... Sequel to TGWFO.
1. Running from old Memories

**Hello, everyone! So, this is it. the big, long awaited (probably by only three people, but still, long awaited) sequel to The Girl Who Found Out! As I'm writing, this, it's actually the past, because I want to make a real good start to something that people have waited a long time for. I plan to really work my hardest on this. I hope you all like it!**

 **Now, you definitely need to read the aforementioned prequel before you read this, but for the person who isn't (there's always one) here's an overview: Madison Abernathy, a sixteen year old girl, witnesses the epic showdown at the metal factory in Cry Wolf. She starts digging, and eventually discovers the Fable's existence. However, they know she knows, so they work out a deal- she doesn't tell, she can know. Now, five year time jump (what happened in those five years is contained in the side-story, The Mundy of Fabletown). Madison gets a job sorting papers at the Business office, but, as she's going through old papers, she discovers an invoice from the Puddin' and Pie, which belongs to Bluebeard. On the paper, he is charged extra for abusing staff. Bluebeard sees Madison find the paper and plans to kill her. Bufkin, knowing this, comes to her house with a vial of the infamous Hyde formula (Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde), explaining that it works differently on Mundanes: it will drive her insane, but give her the speed and strength to fend Bluebeard off if he finds her before she gets to the office. As she runs, she trips just in time for Bluebeard to miss with the only bullet he brought, so he takes out a knife. Madison drinks the formula and proceeds to beat Bluebeard within an inch of his life, before being stopped by Bigby. The two fight, until Snow arrives with a pouch of sand that puts Madison to sleep. once she awakens, the Fables inform her that, in order to prevent magical addiction, they must remove her memories of Fabletown. Madison berates Snow for this and goes home, where she writes herself a note and leaves it in a book in her house. The Fables arrive, take her memory, and leave her in her bed, before removing every reminder in her house of the fable's existence. After a brief dream in which madison sees glimpses of the memories she lost, she wakes up, completely forgetful. A month later, she finds her note, and due to the fragile nature of a five-year memory wipe, all her memories come crashing back. She then runs away from New York and goes into hiding, leaving a simple note on snow's desk before she goes: Forgiven, not Forgotten. And that's the sum of it.**

 **As well as that massive wall of text, I'd like to thank some people. The wonderful TheKittenAuthor, for the title of this sequel (you rock!). To LostHero171, for always, and I mean _always_ commenting and spurring me onwards (you also rock!) A thanks to everyone else who commented (be it once or frequently, you all rock as well!) And finally, to Cecilia Green, who inspired me to write The Girl Who Found Out in the first place. You rock out loud, girl.**

 **And last on my to do list, over a year in the making...COMMENT REVIEW TIME!**

 **LostHero171 (obviously): I hope you enjoyed the miquel, mess that it was. Glad you enjoyed the original story. Hope you like this just as much.**

 **Moo Giraffe: I look back at your comment and I realize that I am a heartless monster for making you wait. I am truly sorry *kneels* if you see this, I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me.**

 **TheKittenAuthor: Dang it Kitten, I thought it was a good cliffhanger T-T.**

 **MrMeatbag: Thank you, kind sir!**

 **Andrew 2000: I hope you like this. I can tell the miquel wasn't quite to your taste.**

 **Unknown: Here is the latter.**

 **Nero's Legacy: That is a great idea, but sadly, I had a plan T-T. Glad you liked The Girl Who Found Out!**

 **And lastly, but never, EVER least, Cecilia Green: I am so sorry for the wait. Your kind words fall on an undeserving, but very grateful, writer. I hope you like this!**

 **Now...who's ready to get this show on the road? I know I am!**

 **LET THE STORY...BEGIN!**

* * *

Snow White still hadn't stood back up.

The instant Bigby had seen the piece of paper, he'd gotten straight to work. He went through the apartment with a stony expression and a fine-toothed comb, searching for anything, and hint of a trace of a clue that could tell him where Madison Abernathy had gone.

However, it appeared that her fading smell was the only giveaway that the woman had lived here at all. The walls were stripped bare, the carpet was clean, every closet was empty, and every piece of furniture that hadn't come with the room was gone. In fact, the whole place was so blank that Bigby felt a sneaking suspicion that magic had been used, although how the Mundane had done so, he had no idea.

When over twenty minutes of searching yielded no result, Bigby was forced to give up. He walked back into the main room, slamming his feet against the hardwood floor with just a little more force than was necessary. He saw Snow near the door, slumped against a wall. Exactly where she had been after she showed him the note. Her face was hidden in her arms, which were folded across the tops of her knees. Her hands were still clenched tight around the note, the note bearing those three simple words. _Forgiven, not forgotten._

Bigby clenched his teeth and barely cut off a growl. _What the hell did she mean by that?_

Bigby knew, though, try as he might to deny it. Snow had been a mess after what they had done to Madison-despite both women thinking he had left, he's heard the argument between the two. His initial reaction had been to bristle at someone disrespecting Snow in such a way, but he had quickly realized that Madison had every right to be angry. Snow knew this as well, which no doubt was why she took...what happened next...so hard. However, it seemed like Madison had regretted causing the Deputy Mayor so much pain. _But why send the note? Even if she did want to let Snow know she forgave her, telling us she got her memory back...why would she do something that stupid? She must have known we'd come after her._

Try as he might, he just couldn't come up with an answer.

Snapping back to the matters at hand, Bigby walked over to Snow and crouched down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Snow?" His tone was soft, but no less gruff than usual.

Snow was quiet for several seconds. Finally, she looked up at him When their eyes met, Bigby nearly recoiled. Snow's normally bright blue eyes were dull and haunted, so full of raw emotion that just looking was like feeling it himself. "Bigby…" she whispered. "We have to find her. We can't let it happen again." For a moment, she looked not at Bigby, but into her own memories. He could almost see the reflections of blood in her eyes.

Bigby nodded, refusing to let his own thoughts wander back to that day. "I know. Believe me."

That seemed to reassure Snow somewhat. Taking a shaky breath, she stood up, stuffing the note in her suit and letting the Sheriff's hand fall from her shoulder. She closed her eyes and took a few more deep breaths. When she opened them again, they had gained some of their luster. She spoke, her voice was a bit more confident, on its way back to the usual businesslike tone Bigby knew so well.

"Our main priority right now is finding Madison. If her memories really have come back, then magical addiction could set in at any time. We need to find her and-" her voice hitched slightly, "-make sure that doesn't happen." She looked at Bigby sharply. "Were there any clues to where she might have gone?"

Bigby shook his head. "The place is clean. Too clean. And she's been gone for a while; two weeks, at least."

A quick, horrified expression flashed across Snow's face. "Two weeks?" she said, voice high with distress. Seeing the concern on Bigby's face, she caught herself, taking a few more calming breaths. "All the more reason to find her quickly. We'll need a witch to track her down in time, and to get a new memory spell. Let's go."

With that, Snow was off like a shot, whirling on her heel and all but running out the door and down the hall. Bigby took off after her. "Snow," he said quickly. "One more thing...How did the note end up in your office?"

Snow clenched her jaw. "I'm not sure. The door was locked, and Bufkin swore he didn't see anyone…" Her gaze hardened. "But the paper smelled like smoke when I picked it up…"

* * *

 _Two weeks prior…_

It was an unusually dark and empty night. The street lamps were dimmed down, reducing their once-bright glows to a washed-out yellow flicker. There were almost no cars, and the few that passed the bus stop never stopped. The sky was clouded over, the windows were all dark-someone who didn't know better would say it was a bad omen.

There was a single person at the bus stop, sitting on the bench with their hands folded neatly on their lap and their legs crossed, church-like. When a second person emerged from the shadows behind them, they gave no indication that they heard.

The second figure was revealed as they stepped into the dim streetlight-a strikingly beautiful woman with long, curly platinum blonde hair, a wide set of china-blue eyes, and porcelain skin, carrying a duffle bag at her side. As she approached the bus stop, she grinned evilly, stepping lightly as she got closer and closer. Lifting one slim, pale hand, the woman reached for the person's shoulder-

"Hello, Crystal."

Crystal Thorn blinked, her mischievous smile giving way to shock for a split second before drooping into a frown. "Fuck," she cursed unhappily. "I thought I had you. How'd you know?"

The figure on the bench spoke again, never once turning around. "I was just listening hard, I guess."

Crystal sighed and walked over to the bus stop bench, sliding onto it until she was pressed uncomfortably close to the other person. "Man, I haven't seen you in a while, Mundy Mads," the witch said cheerfully, seemingly unaware of the close proximity. "I mean, I wanted to stop by, but Puppy and Snow made it really clear I had to leave you alone…"

The person gently scooted away so that the two were no longer touching. For the first time, the person on the bench turned, throwing her face into relief as it was bathed in light. The woman sitting next to Crystal was young, with a pale, lightly freckled face framed by long, messy black hair. Her golden eyes were dull and sad, lacking the youthful gleam they once possessed, much older than the rest of her appearance.

"You already know, Crystal," Madison Abernathy said quietly. "I know you do."

Crystal's smile stayed bright, but tightened at the edges. "You got me there. Let me tell you, I really wanted to kill those fuckers for that. But hey, rules are rules." She shrugged.

Madison smiled sadly. "I'd...I'd forgotten how your sense of humor worked." The smile dropped off her face like water. "I missed it."

Crystal refused to let her own joyful expression die. "Man, that sounds like the fucking worst. Not even remembering my jokes." She playful tousled Madison's hair. When she withdrew her hand, the other woman's hair sprung up from static.

"Did you bring everything?" The Mundane said, reaching up and patting her hair back down.

Crystal tutted and reached into her bag. "Of course I did." After rummaging around inside, she withdrew a wrinkled, half-wadded bundle of papers with a flourish. "Ta-da," she sing-songed.

Madison reached for the papers, but Crystal held them just out of arm's reach. "Nope," she said, mock-serious. "Not until you give me the goods. Do you have them or not?"

Madison sighed, reaching into her own pocket and withdrawing a package of cigarettes. Wordlessly, she held them out. Crystal's eyes widened. When she spoke, her tone was hushed, almost reverent. "And...those are his? He actually had them on him?"

She looked at Madison for a split second, staring directly in the center of the woman's forehead with a scrutinizing gaze. After a moment, she broke into a huge grin. "Oh, hell yes." Reaching down, she snatched the cigarettes out of the woman's palm, cramming the papers in the duffle bag and handing it over as she did so.

Madison, looking strangely relieved, took the bag, opened it, and lifted out the top sheet of paper, scanning it over as she did so. "Are you sure this will be enough?" she said.

Crystal nodded, eyes still glued to the cigarettes. "Yep. New name, new birth certificate, the works. That'll be enough to start over. And I even remember all the stuff you wanted me to do after. Aren't I smart?" She wrenched her gaze away from the cigarettes for a moment, looking at Madison with sudden concern. "Are you sure, though? That you want to do this?" Her voice was uncharacteristically somber and quiet.

Madison didn't even hesitate. She nodded. "I'm sure. I can't risk forgetting again. And staying here…" she trailed off, the hollow look in her eyes deepening in the silence.

Crystal frowned. "Hey," she said, lightly smacking Madison's head. "Snap out of it. Just get the hell out of here and live your life, okay?"

Madison looked over, surprised, her eyes brightening slightly. She was silent for a few moments. "Okay," she said, finally.

As if on cue, there was a flash of lights from down the road. Tires screeched against asphalt, and with the reek of exhaust and oil, a near-empty bus slid into place. The doors hissed open.

Madison stood up, slinging the bag over her shoulder, and quickly slipped Crystal a piece of paper. The witch didn't even read it, opting to jam it in her pocket. Madison was silent as she walked up the bus steps, only pausing and turning around when she reached the top. She looked back at Crystal, who was watching with a wide, somewhat forced grin. "Goodbye, Crystal," the Mundane said softly. "It was fun...Hanging out."

Crystal nodded furiously, grinning evilly again. "Don't think you won't see me again, Mundy Mads. One day, you'll think you're safe, and BAM!" She snapped her fingers. "I'll be at your house and stealing your food. Hell, maybe I'll move stuff around, just to fuck with you. Just you wait."

Madison laughed softly. "I look forward to it." Smiling, she wiped something glistening from her eyes and finished entering the bus. The doors slid shut with a _whoosh,_ and the entire vehicle lurched away.

Crystal watched the bus drive away until it was out of sight. Once it was gone, the smile dripped off her face. She looked back at the cigarettes clutched tightly in her hand. She stared at them for a few minutes before shaking her head. "You fucking liar," the witch whispered, smiling sadly.

Standing up abruptly from her seat, Crystal ripped a cigarette from the pack and jammed it between her lips. She tapped the end like she was testing a microphone; it sparked once, twice, before finally flaring to life. Crystal sucked in the smoke with a deep breath, before removing the cigarette from her teeth and blowing. A long, pale stream of smoke issued from her lips and twirled away into the sky.

Crystal waited until the smoke had vanished. Then, she sighed once more and turned on her heel, vanishing in a bright swirl of emerald fire.

* * *

 **Drop me a comment if you liked this; I really appreciate it. My will to write more is fueled by comments, so the more I get, the faster the next chappie comes out...See you next time.**


	2. I will never forget

**Hello, everyone! Alrighty, this story is already off to a good start, eh? I got some reviews, so this chapter is here now. Thank you, everyone who likes this so far! I shall do my best not to let you down! *salutes***

 **Now, COMMENT REVIEW TIME!**

 **LostHero171: I'm glad you liked it, and that the feels were effective! I'm looking forward to seeing you some more, buddy.**

 **wildwolf007: I do, actually. About...Let's see...One year, three months roughly, right? Sorry for the wait. Nice MLP reference. And thank me? Thank you for the fav and follow!**

 **XxwerefangmoonxX: Here you go. Glad you enjoyed it.**

 **Let's see...I'll start writing the next chapter when I have one more comment then I had this time. So four comments. Okay? Okay.**

 **Now, LET THE STORY BEGIN!**

* * *

 _Two weeks prior to Snow and Bigby's discovery..._

By some small miracle, the bus was almost completely empty. I paid the driver and slumped into the nearest seat, lurching forward slightly as the bus jerked into motion. Sighing heavily, I settled back down against the dusty, cracked vinyl, suddenly exhausted. I let my head fall against the smudged glass of the window, grateful for the cooling effect it had on my skin.

For the first time since regaining my memories, I was bone tired. The initial rush of sight, sound, and emotion had been overwhelmingly exhausting, but mere seconds afterwards I had been full of energy. It was as if the lost life I'd regained had reenergized me. From then on, every waking moment had been spent pondering my next move. Did I admit that I remembered the Fable's existence? Did I keep my head low and pretend nothing had changed?

In the end, I had realized that the best thing to do would be leave entirely. The idea of passing by familiar places and acting like nothing had changed, that I was still blissfully clueless, was too painful to even contemplate. How could I walk down Bullfinch Street, or go past the Woodlands, or even worse, pass a Fable by in the road, without acknowledging them? Without revealing that I _remembered_ them? Just the thought made my head throb painfully.

But revealing that I _had_ regained my memories was just as much of an impossibility. If I did that, no doubt Snow and Bigby would whip up a memory spell even more powerful than the last. I'd gotten lucky enough breaking the spell the first time around. I didn't trust my luck to hold out a second time.

So I'd gone to Crystal. Making the journey to her house had been nerve-wracking, but I'd managed, remembering it would all be worth it. I hadn't actually seen her, only left a note at her 'door'- a plea for help, a set of instructions, and promise of compensation in the form of a pack of Bigby's cigarettes. Granted, I hadn't been able to obtain any that he'd owned, but I'd gotten the right brand and done my best to think that they were his. And thankfully, Crystal had risen to the challenge. She'd taken my note to Snow with the knowledge to deliver it in two weeks, plenty of time for me to get far away from Fabletown. She'd provided me with a new identity and all the necessary papers for it. And she'd even brought...

Suddenly uncomfortable against the glass, I removed my head, unconsciously placing my hand inside the duffel bag, My fingers brushed against the glass vials stored inside, a dozen at least. Hyde serum, corked up tight.

Bringing them had been the one thing I hadn't had to second guess. Leaving them behind had been unthinkable. They were far too dangerous to leave lying around, even at the Business Office. I would make sure no one used them. As soon as I reached somewhere safe, I'd pour them down the drain.

 _No._ I wrapped my hand around a vial and squeezed hard. I'd do more then that. I'd burn the damn things to ashes and scatter the remains. These vials were the cause of my problems. The whole reason I was running. No one would ever- _ever_ -drink a single drop again.

I'd die before I'd let anyone else have them.

* * *

"Alright! Everyone sit down and be quiet!"

The room which housed the small crowd was, simply put, extravagant. The floor and walls were made of the same smooth, tan stone, stretching out into a space that easily accommodated the group. The walls were adorned with all manner of tapestries, paintings, and weapons, while the floor was covered patchily with various elaborately embroidered rugs. At the far end of the room was, coincidentally, a speaker's podium, complete with a very irate speaker.

Bluebeard looked decidedly worse for wear, almost out of place with the lavish surroundings. His arm was wrapped in gauze bandages, with another larger patch of white material stuck over his head. One of his eyes sported a massive greenish-yellow bruise. In spite of this, his clothes were just as trim as ever, as was his beard.

Bluebeard glared at the crown, which resentfully settled into scattered chairs or, failing to reach one in time, standing positions. All sorts of people were gathered-men, women, young and old and even older. Once they settled down, the audience turned as one to look their speaker in the eye.

"Now," said Bluebeard, clasping his hands behind his back and lifting his chin up. "I've called you all here to tell you something very important. Something that could endanger Fabletown itself."

The crowd erupted into tense murmurs. One figure, a lanky man with greased-back black hair and a single blind eye, spoke up. "Oh yeah?" Gren sneered. "Then how come we're hearin' it from you and not from somebody important?"

Bluebeard glared, most likely out of anger at being deemed not important, until the crowd shrank back into silence. "Because, you idiot, the Business Office is the reason we _have_ the problem!" He spat. "The threat to our town is not only something they're aware of, but something they've been hiding for five years!"

Gren seemed skeptical. "Well?" He demanded. "What is it?"

Bluebeard didn't answer right away; he let the silence fester with the air of someone cradling a live bomb. When he finally answered, he did so with smug finality.

"The Mundies know about us. They've known for five years."

There were three seconds of silence so thick, you could have cut it with a knife. Then, as if acting on a hidden signal, the crowd exploded into noise. About three quarters of the gathered audience yelled, argued, or even shouted obscenities at each other; the remainder, however, stayed quiet, slightly guilty and nervous expressions crossing their faces.

Bluebeard allowed the riot to boil for about ten seconds before shouting down the crowd. "Be quiet!" He bellowed, loud enough to be heard even through the din. "I'm not finished yet!"

It took time, but eventually the noise lowered from a roar to a low rumble, which eventually petered into silence. Gren, who seemed to have taken it upon himself to act as the crowd speaker, broke through the emptiness. "That's bullshit. How come they haven't shown up and dragged us off to fuck knows where, then? How come there aren't crowds outside The Woodlands?"

Bluebeard scowled. "I'm getting to that," he ground out. He took a moment to calm himself and straighten his tie, then continued. "It's only one so far. A black haired bitch with a smart mouth. She's known about Fabletown for five years, gotten cozy with the Business Office. It's only a matter of time before she blabs to the rest of the world!"

A withered voice piped up from the back. "Five years, you say?" Auntie Greenleaf's tone was serious, but held a trace of wry amusement. "That's plenty of time to spill her guts. If this Mundy's such a threat, how come we're still not in 'fuck knows where' as our friend at the front so aptly put it?" Her next words were ever so slightly accusing. "And how did you come to find out about her?"

Bluebeard answered smoothly. " I've known as long as the Sheriff and the Deputy Mayor have. They made me stay quiet. And as for why she hasn't told anyone, they've been bribing her with some of _my_ money and some of _your_ taxes." The crowd broke out into angry mutters, and some of the guilty-looking Fables now looked suspicious. "But the bitch has gotten greedy. A couple weeks ago, I caught her passing information to a news writer for extra cash. I managed to shut him up for good, but the bitch got away and told the Office I attacked her. They wouldn't let me touch her and _refused_ to hear otherwise." The mutters grew to a low rumble.

"And that's why I've called you all here tonight," Bluebeard finished. "Since the Business Office is useless, it's up to us to get rid of her. I'm offering a reward for whoever kills the bitch. Enough to keep you fed, clothed, and glamoured for the next few centuries."

The rumbling broke into full-on shouts. Bluebeard raised a hand and, miraculously, the crowd was silenced, eager for more. "However," he said, grinning maliciously. "Whoever manages to bring her back _alive_ and give her to me...will be set for as long as they live."

This time, it wasn't shouting that echoed through the room.

It was cheering.

* * *

"Last stop! Pittsburgh! Last stop!"

I jolted awake, rocketing up and slamming my head into the window. Wincing in pain, I wiped a thin line of drool off my chin, grabbed my duffel bag, and stood up. Easing out of my seat, I made my way down the aisle and, with a grateful nod to the driver, exited the bus. The door closed, and with a squeal of brakes, the bus sped away, leaving me alone on a dark, unfamiliar street.

I looked around. Pittsburgh wasn't really that different from New York, at least in my eyes-clearer skies, maybe, and less light in windows. More room between buildings, less nightlife. Quiter. Lonelier.

I heaved the duffle bag over my shoulder, sighed, and started walking.

It was at least twenty minutes before I found a motel. Plenty of time for me to be lightly drenched in sweat from the warm air, and tired enough to contemplate sleeping on a bus stop bench. When I stumbled into the blessedly air-conditioned lobby, the woman at the desk must have thought I looked like a zombie.

I dragged my way to the counter, rummaged in the duffel bag, grabbed a handful of bills, and slid them onto the counter. "One room, please," I said tiredly. "Don't care what kind, as long as it has a bed and a bathroom."

The woman seemed sympathetic. "Of course. Here you go." She traded the cash for a set of keys, which I plucked off the counter. Mumbling a word of thanks, I stepped back outside and found my door. I jammed the key into the lock and threw open the door.

The room was small and half-bare, but there was a bed with a pillow and blanket, and that was enough for me. Letting the duffel bag hit the floor, I closed the door behind me, not even bothering to turn on a light. I stumbled over to the bed and flopped on the plush surface. This was all I needed right now-a soft surface, a dark room, and some quiet.

I had almost fallen into sweet oblivion when a strange thought hit the front of my mind. I tried to ignore it, but it stayed, an annoying little itch that I tried-and failed-to not scratch. Finally, I huffed exasperatedly and contemplated it.

 _Snow said strengthening magic is addicting...now that my memories are back...is that going to happen to me?_

I shut that thought down immediately. I had no desire to drink the Hyde formula-on the contrary, once I was well-rested, I was going to destroy it. I didn't feel any different physically-no fever, pain, anything that would indicate something was wrong with me. And if I kept thinking like that, I might end up going back to Fabletown. And then I might get caught, and they might make me forget again. I'd sooner kill every Fable in Fabletown then forget again.

My eyes shot open, and I sat straight up, heart unexpectedly twisting in my chest. _Whoa. Where...where did that come from?_ For a brief moment, I'd really felt like...I meant that. What had come over me?

I shook my head. I was exhausted and not thinking straight. That was all. I'd be able to think clearer in the morning.

Comforted by that fact, I lay back down on the bed and closed my eyes. In a few moments, I drifted off to sleep.

.


	3. Chasing Memories

**Hello, everyone. You know, this could have been out sooner. This could have been out way, way sooner. I wanted it to be out way, way sooner. But I said this wasn't going up until I got four comments, and I meant it. But it took me four** _ **months**_ **to get** _ **two.**_ **For frick's sake, people! I know you're reading this!**

 ***sigh* Whatever. I'm not even gonna. I'm just gonna try and get into a nice writing schedule. Besides, that's not the only reason this is late. Even after I got the fourth comment, I didn't write for a while. I was in a slump, you see. A writer's slump. I thought it would never end.**

 **And then, I found it. Fighter's Block. A website sent by God himself. You check it out next time you need motivation to write. I churned out this entire chapter in one go thanks to Fighter's Block.**

 **So, let's do COMMENT REVIEW TIME!**

 **Wildwolf007: Yeah. And even when he does rest, he probably dreams about different ways to screw people over. And it will get even more interesting before the story is done…**

 **Jack Redhawke: Be careful what you wish for, cause you just might get it…**

 **Riddle: Thanks! I like you and your politeness, so I'm gonna do my best to answer your questions. Now, normally, you would be right, save for two things. One, the wolf among us takes place quite a bit before the comics happen (and even with the five year time lapse, the comic story still hasn't started yet) and two, only a few of the Fables know about Madison at all. Not to mention that they've met her, and heard about her from the office-what Bluebeard is claiming she did, they wouldn't know about, even if it was true. Not to mention that, again, only a few know. If any of them step up with that knowledge, that's gonna raise questions of why they never said anything, which could get ugly if a mob gets involved. I hope this answered all your questions! P.S Yeah, Bluebeard's a twat.**

 **AsouShibata: Holy cow, man. You did it. You see me free. I've wanted to write this for** _ **ages,**_ **but I said I needed four reviews, and far be it from me to go back on my word. Woo hoo! Thank you so much! And as for your comment...Don't worry. I have something in mind for him.**

 **And now, who's ready to party? I know I am!**

 **LET THE STORY BEGIN (and man doesn't it feel good to say that!)**

* * *

 _Back to the present..._

"What do you mean, you can't find her?" Bigby snapped.

Bigby and Snow White had come back to the Business Office, planning to use the Mirror to track down Madison's location. Bufkin was passed out in the rafters somewhere, so they'd had to ask themselves. It had taken several tries before the Mirror had finally accepted an answer, and now...

The Mirror, floating as stoic as ever in a haze of green, frowned and huffed indignantly. "I'm sorry, Sheriff, but this isn't me; something else keeps her from being seen." Its tone was as monotonous and flat as usual, but it seemed almost troubled. "It's almost like she isn't there, but even the dead don't turn to air."

Snow looked ready to tear her hair out. "What does that mean?" She demanded. "Someone's blocking your view?"

The mirror bobbed up and down-the closest thing to a nod it could manage. "That someone would defy you is truly tragic, but her location is blocked by powerful magic."

Bigby snarled, resisting the urge to slam a fist into the smooth wooden frame of the Mirror. He knew it wasn't its fault, but doing so would have done wonders for his nerves. Instead, he took a deep breath. "Well, is there any way we can get past it?"

The Mirror shook its head. "Unfortunately, that's beyond my power."

Snow made a frantic sort of growling noise in her throat and turned to face Bigby. She was looking significantly worse for wear: her suit was wrinkled at the cuts and there was a wisp of hair falling out of her bun. "What do we do now, Bigby?" She demanded. "How are we supposed to find her if we can't use the Mirror?"

Bigby didn't answer right away, as much as he would have liked to. The truth was, he wasn't entirely sure. When Crane had gone missing, they hadn't been able to use the Mirror either, but that was because they had been missing a piece. That problem was solvable; a magical wall was not. With so many magic users in Fabletown, there was no way of knowing who was responsible for the block-not without interrogating them all, and there wasn't enough time for that.

However, thinking about magic users gave him an idea. _It's a pain in the ass, but it'll work._ "We do the next best thing," he said, looking Snow in the eye with the most level expression he could muster. "We go and see a witch."

* * *

"Crystal!" Bigby pounded his fist against the mildewed surface of the cardboard box. For all intents and purposes, it should have buckled like wet paper, but it stayed where it was (and resounded with an out-of-place _knock_ ). "Open up, dammit! We need a spell!"

Bigby and Snow had made the journey to the witch's house in search of a spell to track down Madison. Usually, Crystal was two steps ahead of them for this sort of thing (much to Bigby's perpetual annoyance). However, they had been pounding at her door for over a minute, and she hadn't answered.

Bigby couldn't help but feel uneasy. _Could something have happened? Or is she just ignoring us? She_ has _been pretty pissed since we wiped Madison's memory._

"She's not answering," Snow said nervously, mirroring Bigby's own thoughts. "That's not like her."

Bigby gave the box a final, solid knock, before gritting his teeth with frustration and lowering his arm. "We don't have time for whatever game she's playing today," he growled. "She probably would have given us the spell cheap, but if she's not here, then we're going to have to see another witch."

Snow looked at him. "I think I know who we can talk to."

* * *

Snow and Bigby came to a stop outside the door. Number 277, on the Thirteenth Floor. It was an unassuming door: just plain polished wood. But to Bigby, it may as well have been the gates of hell.

He turned to Snow. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Snow didn't even glance his way. "She's the most powerful witch in Fabletown, Bigby. Her help won't come cheap, but she'll be able to find Madison for sure." She set her jaw. "She has to."

She didn't have to elaborate on why finding Madison was so important.

 _It had happened about twenty or so years ago. Jack had snuck into the office while Bufkin was sleeping off a hangover and swiped a bottle of liquid pyromancy, a potion that gave the drinker the power to summon and manipulate fire. Before anyone knew he had taken anything, he'd sold it on the streets as a cure for the common cold._

 _They might never have known that he'd taken anything, if Bigby hadn't dragged him in a few days later. He'd been attacked by the Mundy he'd sold the potion to-an unassuming man in every way, save for his apparently hysterical attitude. He'd hunted Jack down and demanded another bottle of 'medicine' complaining of constant cold. When Jack hadn't given it to him, he'd grown violent. It was only because Bigby happened to be passing by that he was able to intervene._

 _Neither Bigby nor Snow knew what was happening. They'd fined Jack and sent the man on his way after making sure he didn't know anything about Fabletown._

 _In the end, that had been a mistake. A fatal mistake._

 _Jack had returned about a week later, bruised and bleeding and covered in cold sweat. The Mundy had found him, broken into his home in the middle of the night, demanding more medicine. Even worse, Jack said his hands and face were covered in raw burns. He'd managed to stun him with a blow to the head, and had run to the Office as fast as he could. Even Jack knew at that time that something was wrong._

 _Bigby had run off to try and track the Mundy down, but it was too late. After he had woken up, he'd torn Jack's house to pieces, leaving blood splatters across the floor and broken furniture everywhere. By the time Bigby arrived, however, he was long gone._

 _Bigby had tried to find him, but in the end, the Mundies had found him first. The next day, the story was all over the papers: a man found burned alive in the ruins of his home, curled up next to a charred plastic container used for gasoline._

 _He'd finally managed to warm up, it seemed. But it had cost him dearly._

Bigby knew that Snow was still bothered by the whole affair, to say the least. And she hadn't even known that man. The idea of the same fate happening to Madison was clearly tearing her up inside.

But Bigby would do his best to make sure that didn't happen.

With that in mind, he reached out and knocked on the door in front of him. "Frau Totenkinder?" He said (doing his best to pronounce the name right). "This is the Sheriff. We need a spell."

There were three seconds of silence. Then, without so much as a sound, the door slowly swung open. "Alright, then." The voice that came through the opening was dry as dust, but carried enough power to make the back of Bigby's neck prickle. "Come in."

Without waiting for Snow, Bigby stepped inside. He was greeted by pale pinks walls covered in old paintings, and a heavy rug that smelled like magic and mothballs. Sitting in a rocking chair, patiently knitting, was an old woman. Her skin was frail and seemed to hang loosely on her bones, and her hair was brittle and white, but Bigby knew better than to think she was harmless. He could practically feel the magic in the air, a faint hum that buzzed in his bones. She was Frau Totenkinder, the most powerful witch on the Thirteenth Floor.

"Greetings, Sheriff. Miss White." She spoke again, never looking up from her knitting. "I hope you'll pardon the mess. I wasn't expecting company."

Bigby heard Snow step into the room behind him and gently close the door. "It's fine." Even as stressed as she was, she managed to sound polite (if somewhat frail). "I'm sorry to come without warning, but we need your help."

Totenkinder still didn't look up. "What is it, then? A Glamour? I'm backed up enough as it is on Glamour spells, so I'm afraid-"

"It's not a Glamour." Snow's voice came out harsh, and she must have known; she took a deep breath and only continued when her voice was level again. "We need a tracking spell."

The knitting needles stopped, just for a moment, before resuming their work. Totenkinder looked up from her yarn, brown eyes glinting curiously. "A tracking spell, you say?" She sounded almost interested. "That's new. What's the occasion?"

Snow opened her mouth, paused, then closed it and shook her head. "That's classified, Frau Totenkinder. Official Fabletown business."

Totenkinder snorted. "It wouldn't have anything to do with that Mundane woman, would it?"

Snow froze. Bigby bit back a curse.

The witch chuckled at their expressions. "Oh, don't look so surprised," she laughed. "Word gets around, you know. At this point, most of Fabletown knows about her." She shook her head, smiling. "At least, the Fables that matter, anyway."

Now Bigby really did curse.

Totenkinder tutted. "Such language." Her needles clicked faster, over and under, over and under. "So tell me. Why do you need to track this woman?"

Snow shifted her weight from foot to foot. "She's gone missing, you see. We wiped her memories to counter..." she trailed off, apparently unable to continue.

Bigby finished for her. "To counter magical addiction."

Totenkinder looked up again. "Magical addiction?"

Snow nodded. "But now her memories are back, and she's probably furious. I didn't want to wipe her memories, but we had no choice-" Her voice hitched.

Totenkinder pursed her lips. "Magical addiction isn't something to be taken lightly, dear." The needles started clicking with an almost angry tone. "Mundanes don't take well to enhancement magic. The results are never pretty. What kind of magic was it?"

Snow swallowed hard. "Hyde serum."

The needles abruptly stopped moving, leaving the room unbearably silent. "Oh dear." They didn't resume this time. "And you said she's gotten her memories back?"

Bigby nodded. "We need to find her."

Totenkinder nodded and resumed knitting, although her movements seemed slower now. "There's a chance the effects have passed, but if not..." She clicked her tongue. "Well, she won't try to kill herself at least, but she could turn to more Mundane methods."

 _That doesn't sound good._ "What do you mean?" Bigby asked.

"Alcohol. Drugs. Anything to give her that rush." Totenkinder punctuated each answer with a click. "No doubt she'll get violent in order to get her fix. And that's if you're lucky. There's no telling what kind of effect this could have on her in the long run."

Bigby took a deep breath and blew it out through his nose. _Great. Fucking fantastic._ "So can you make the spell or not?"

Totenkinder nodded. "I can prepare the spell you need-"

Snow gave a clearly audible sigh of relief.

" _But,"_ the witch continued, "it won't be cheap. And I'll need something of her's-preferably a lock of hair or a piece of her clothes."

Bigby growled under his breath. _Great. More money the office doesn't have. And where the hell are we going to get something of Madison's?_

"You can take it or leave it, Sheriff." Clearly, the witch had heard him. "I'm sorry, but magic isn't free. If I gave away spells for free, I wouldn't be able to support myself."

"You've been very helpful, Frau Totenkinder," Snow interrupted, giving Bigby a hard stare. "Thank you." She turned towards the door. "We'll be back soon with the money."

"Miss White." Totenkinder's voice stopped the Deputy Mayor in her tracks. "Do try and find that girl. From what I've heard of her from Greenleaf, she's a good soul."

She finally set down her knitting. It was a sweater, now that Bigby looked at it-lime green with a black collar. "And the good souls are usually the ones with the darkest shadows in their hearts."

* * *

The taxi drive back to the Business Office was spent in stony silence. Snow was clearly deep in thought, and Bigby didn't care to interrupt her. He himself was busy brooding over what the witch had said. _What does she mean, darkest shadows?_ He snarled. _Why can't witches ever be straight with you?_

When they arrived back at the office, they realized that someone else was already there.

"Sheriff. Miss White." Bluebeard's tone could have frozen water. He strode forward, eying the two up and down with a barely perceptible sneer on his lips. "Where have you been?"

Bigby was about to tell him it was none of his business, but Snow stopped him. "We had to request a spell from the Thirteenth floor," she said quickly. "Nothing serious."

Bluebeard raised an eyebrow. "A spell. I take it it's important?" When Snow nodded, he smiled. "Allow me to pay for it, then. I know magic on the Thirteenth Floor doesn't come cheap."

Bigby started. _Bluebeard, offering to pay for a spell he doesn't even know about?_ "That's generous of you," he said dryly. "Do you have some kind of angle?"

Bluebeard shook his head, the smile never leaving his face. "Aren't I allowed to play my part in supporting our community?" He said. "Just consider it a donation." He gave a small, greasy chuckle. "I've made enough of those, of course."

Snow stared at him for a long moment. "Well, then." She cleared her throat. "Thank you, Bluebeard. Your donation is appreciated."

Bluebeard nodded. "Anything for Fabletown. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." With a final dip of his head, he turned around and left the office.

Bigby watched him go. "I don't trust him," he said, once Bluebeard was finally gone.

Snow shook her head. "Neither do I." She smiled sadly. "But we don't have much of a choice, do we?"


	4. Capable Addiction

**Hello, everyone! Sorry this took a bit. I wanted to have it out about a month ago, but I got sidetracked hard. Still, a lot of effort went into this chapter (particularly the middle part) and I think you're gonna like it!**

 **A big thanks to my buddy, With Death Comes More Death, for helping me structure this chapter. You're a lifesaver, man.**

 **Now, on to COMMENT REVIEW TIME!**

 **SummoningShadows18: It's okay. I don't blame you for forgetting, that last update was a while coming. I'm glad you like it!**

 **wildwolf007: Yeah, he's pretty suspicious like that. You better hope he doesn't find Madison first. It would be...messy. And yeah, it's a great app. I highly recommend it.**

 **xXIllusionFoxXx: Oh, you're one to talk. Just kidding. Glad you liked it!**

 **MyChemicalWaffles: Good to see you back, buddy. I'm really, really glad you liked this.**

 **MathewMC: Ah, Bigby and Crystal. Sadly, I'm not the one to answer that question. Glad you liked the story, though!**

 **Now then, to this chapter and many more, eh? LET THE STORY BEGIN!**

* * *

I closed the door to my motel room, letting my bag fall from my hand. I blew my bangs out of my face and slid to the ground, exhausted, but happy. After two long, terrifying weeks, I'd managed to find a job. It was small, just a clerk at a grocery store, but it was something. I had a way to sustain myself, more dependable than the meager wad of cash I'd brought with me.

Grinning tiredly, I pushed myself up and went about making dinner. There wasn't much left in my fridge—another reason I'd been desperate for work—but there was enough for a small meal, and even an apple for after.

Once I was done eating, I curled up under the bed covers with a book and the apple. There was something peaceful about being able to read in silence. I flicked through the pages, occasionally biting into the apple, calmer and more at ease than I'd been since I'd first regained my memories.

Apparently, a bit too at ease. The quiet, the warmth of the blankets, and the soft pillow behind me all took their toll. Despite my best efforts, in the middle of a page turn, my eyes dipped shut, and I fell asleep.

* * *

 _The forest is dead._

 _All around me are the charred hollows of trees, stretching branches like blackened fingers. The ground is crunchy and shifts under my feet, littered with scorched bones and covered in a thick layer of ash. It puffs up with every footstep, swirling through the air and clogging my lungs._

 _Between the dust and the rapid pace I'm running at, I can hardly breathe, but I don't dare stop to catch my breath. Behind me is a horde of monsters, spewing waves of blisteringly hot breath from gaping, fanged mouths. They singe my heels, spurring me on even as I gasp for air._

 _I have no idea how long I've been running. I don't even know where I'm going. The trees are all the same, vaguely familiar and yet too foreign to use as landmarks. Even if I were able to stop and look around, I know I'd be lost._

 _So I run. I run, lungs burning, legs threatening to give out from under me, feet covered in agonizing blisters. I run even as tears start pouring down my face, leaving trails in the dust caked to my skin._

 _I'm not ready to die._

 _Finally, something in the landscape changes. Up ahead of me is a huge tree, a foot or so away from the edge of a steep incline. There's a hollow in the wood, just big enough for my foot, and above that, a branch!_

 _I know I only have one chance to get this right. Once I'm close enough to the tree, I jump, digging my nails into the blackened bark and desperately scrambling for a foothold. Once I've found purchase, I reach up, grabbing onto the branch as tightly as I can, pulling upwards for all I'm worth._

 _Beneath me, the lead monster—a snarling wolf with a blood-stained muzzle and eyes like glowing coals—lunges, just barely missing my foot and smacking into the tree. It roars in pain and rage, staggering backwards before leaping to its hind legs and gouging at the trunk. The other monsters join in, clawing at the tree in a desperate attempt to get at me._

 _Trying not to look down, I climb the tree, slowly making my way around the opposite side. until finally I find a branch sturdy enough to sit on. Once I've straddled it, I'm finally able to catch my breath. I lean back against the trunk, sighing in relief—then freeze as something thin and cold pokes into my neck._

 _I twist around, heart leaping into my throat, and barely bite back a scream. There was a monster in the tree, waiting for me. I have just enough time to see what it looks like—a massive white bird, with a crown of pitch black feathers and a toothy beak the color of blood—before it lunges._

 _This time I really do scream. I lift up my hands in an effort to protect my face and instantly regret it: the bird twists her head and clamps its beak around both my wrists, worrying them like a dog would a bone. Blood pours down my arms as I shriek in pain._

 _The scent of blood sends the monsters on the ground into a frenzy. They roar and bellow, throwing themselves onto the tree and gouging long splinters out of the wood. The bird, spurred on by the shrieks of her audience, bites down even harder._

 _I throw myself backwards, desperately trying to break free. The branch sways beneath me, creaking dangerously. The bird takes a step forward, beating massive alabaster wings, placing one clawed leg on the branch._

 _There's a earsplitting_ crunch _, and suddenly I'm falling. The bird falls with me, yanking its head upwards in shock. Hot nails stab through my wrists, so agonizing I nearly black out._

 _Tears streaming down my face, I yank away from the bird a split second before my shoulder smacks into the ground. I bounce, limbs flopping like a rag doll's, before slamming into the ground again. This happens over and over until, suddenly, I'm lying level, head spinning. Pain pulses through my hands, so horrifying that I can't even feel them._

 _I groan feebly, raising a hand to my head in an attempt to rub my temple. However, what bumps against the side of my head isn't a hand. It's flat, rough, almost chewed, and wet. Trembling, I lower my arm in front of my face._

 _The monster tore my hands off._

 _I hadn't noticed in the fall, but it's all I see now: two shredded, bloody stumps. I stare at them for a moment, desperately hoping I'm hallucinating, but no luck. They stay the same, raw and red and completely, utterly useless._

 _A sob works its way free from my throat. I'm tired, breathless, and crying from pain. I can't run anymore. I can't fight anymore. Blood still leaking from my wrists, I turn around, ready to lie down and accept defeat._

 _And yet something stops me._

 _In front of me is a tree stump, miraculously fresh and unburned, surrounded by a ring of healthy green moss and blooming flowers. In the charred barrenness of the forest, it stands out like comet in the night sky. On top of the stump is a shot glass, filled to the brim with a glowing green liquid._

 _It might as well be calling my name._

 _Behind me, the first of the monsters come barreling down the hill. Will to live suddenly strong again, I throw myself in front of the stump. I have no fingers to pick up the glass with, so I stick my face down and suck it out._

 _The green liquid inside tastes strangely familiar: bitter, acidic, salty and harsh and electric. It scorches my mouth and burns my throat. I double over, coughing._

 _But when I straighten up, I have hands again._

 _They're neon green, glowing, and more perfect than my old hands ever were. Awed, I flex them, feeling the raw, liquid power coursing through each joint. It's almost worth losing my hands, if I get these instead._

 _Behind me, the shrieks of the monster horde remind me that I'm not alone. I turn around just as one lunges: a human-shaped mass of writhing black oil, wearing armor made of bleached bones and holding a knife in each hand._

 _My right hand shoots out, faster than even I can see, and punches straight through its chest. The monster freezes for a split second, then hardens and cracks, before finally crumbling into tiny, tiny pieces._

 _My hands pulse, sending a jolt of sick pleasure through my body, before the green liquid creeps over my forearms._

 _I look at the remaining monsters, a grin tugging at my face. They seem different, somehow: smaller, less intimidating, scared. The wolf whines and shies away, tail tucked tightly between its legs. The bird, who has finally fluttered down, looks ready to fly away again._

 _But I'm not going to give it the chance._

 _I dart into the group of monsters, hands lashing out almost on their own, seeking out limbs and skulls and frail, exposed necks. A few fight back, but they're the first to fall. The rest try and run, but I'm too quick for them now. With every kill, every_ crunch _and_ snap, _my hands pulse with light, and the green spreads further and further._

 _It feels_ fantastic.

 _After what feels like forever, but was most likely just a minute, only the wolf and the bird are left. Scattered around me are the corpses of the other monsters, broken and beaten. Green light covers both my arms, and I can barely stand how good it feels._

 _For whatever reason, the bird doesn't fly away. In fact, it stretches its neck towards me, warbling nervously. The wolf steps in front of it protectively._

 _I take a step forward. The wolf shrinks away, baring its teeth, ears pressed flat against its skull._

 _I smile._

 _The wolf leaps forward so fast it blurs, but my hands reach out before I can blink. There's a smack, a crunch, a rip and a thud...And then the wolf is on the ground, eyes blank and dark, and there's a quivering heart in my hands._

 _The bird cries out, one long, high, mournful note, but I'm oblivious to it. I can only focus on the heart in my hand, still trembling with its last beat. Slowly, it glows green, melting down into my hands. They pulse, hitting me with a shockwave of pleasure so strong I nearly gasp. Green light pours over my shoulders and keeps going, spreading down my ribs and twining affectionately around the back of my neck._

 _I stalk towards the bird, ecstatic, drunk off the power I feel boiling in my chest. The bird looks pathetic now, small and sad and not threatening in the least. I almost feel bad for it...but then I see bits of flesh caught between its teeth. My old hands, chewed and swallowed._

 _I don't even have to try. With a single, glowing hand, I reach down and grab the bird by the throat. It barely struggles, looking at me with wide, sad eyes. A lone, choked note escapes from its beak._

 _I look the bird in the eyes and, just as the green creeps over my chest, snap its neck._

* * *

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._

The incessant noise from the alarm hit my ears like a hammer, forcing me awake. Groaning, I reached out a hand and groped around until I hit the snooze button. I pushed the blankets away, sat up, and stretched.

I actually felt pretty well-rested, more refreshed than I could remember for so early in the morning. I felt like I might have had a dream, but I couldn't remember what. Whatever it had been, it hadn't been enough to wake me up.

Tossing the covers aside, I stepped out of bed—and immediately felt something under by foot. I looked down, confused. The edge of my duffel bag was sticking out from the bed.

Just looking at the bag sent my mood plummeting. I scowled. I still hadn't thought of a good way to dispose of the vials of Hyde serum. Every time I thought of something, I'd find a reason not to; I had to make sure there was no risk of it falling into the wrong hands.

I had to think of a way soon. Having it around was making me antsy.

Kicking the bag further under the bed, I finally started to get ready for my first day of work. I showered, tied my hair back, and put on the most professional clothes I had with me. A few minor adjustments and a cup of (complimentary motel) coffee later, I was ready.

Swallowing the last mouthful of somewhat watery coffee, I stepped into my shoes and went to open the door. My hand was a few inches from the doorknob when I paused.

The door was open, just a touch.

Confused, I drew away from the doorknob. Something cold curled up in my stomach, a hard, icy lump. _I...could have sworn I locked this..._


End file.
